


Tail

by Sifl



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Death, Dismemberment, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Genocide, Saiyans, Tails, and I mean "racism towards a fantastical race", fright - Freeform, horror story, implied gore, just normal Frieza stuff, nothing is actually gory per se
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sifl/pseuds/Sifl
Summary: “There’s a place”, Frieza said, “where they cut off the tails of naughty little monkeys if they don’t behave.(Frieza reminds Vegeta what it means to be obedient.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and reviewing!
> 
> Someone on Tumblr requested something Halloween-y and I sort of obliged. Thanks for reading.)

“There’s a place”, Frieza said, “where they cut off the tails of naughty little monkeys if they don’t behave.

Vegeta scoffed. "You wish. No self-respecting Saiyan would ever put themselves in that position while they were alive!”

Frieza smiled over his glass of something black and sour-sweet, with flecks of sinister gold twinkling in its depths like an entire universe was sitting pretty in his hands. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Vegeta said, crossing his arms. “And everyone knows that no Saiyan defaces another until they have died through means of disgrace by their own weakness. Tails are never taken from true warriors. It would never happen.”

Frieza’s smile grew wider, and his own tail moved like a serpent as Frieza himself glided across thie floor. “Is that so?” He circled around and raised a ghoulish, white-blue hand into the air. “Then, my prince, what would you call,” the sound of his fingers snapping through the room echoed like the call of a lost man in the wilderness, “this?”

The lights over the back wall lit up blood red, and then harsh, unyielding white.  
Lines of fur ran down the wall like blood clotted into a deep, putrid brown-black-red, glistening beneath the bright bulbs in memory of when they were freshly torn from their root.

“Saiyan pelts make for poor trophies,” Frieza said, leaning his head down to speak into the child Prince’s ear. “They dissolve to nothing once the light of the moon stops shining on them. Temperamental things, really, but ultimately more portable.”

Vegeta’s retort was a brush of air scraping past his throat.

Frieza’s claws nestled into Vegeta’s black hair and twirled it around his fingers. “But you aren’t like these filthy nobodies decorating my walls. You’re a different breed.” His hand then reached out for the fur standing on end along Vegeta’s tail, and again his claws tickled the chilled skin beneath it. “Isn’t that right, Prince Vegeta?”

Vegeta wrapped his tail around his waist and said, his arrogance frozen and roiling in the stew of bile churning in his stomach, “Yes. Yes, Lord Frieza.”


End file.
